


The Luxury of Choice

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Robot Genitalia, Robot Sex, Sex Work References, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: Written as a gift for Cyberratting and their followers: In which Mondatta was designed to be a pleasure model, and after a long period of abstinence from any kind of sex, Reinhardt's presence tempts him to try enjoying it for himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyberrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/gifts).



Mondatta knew sentience had come to his kind at different times, in different circumstances. Few omnics shared the same origin when it came to conscious thought, and while their programming allowed them to access each other's memories, those initial awakenings still felt personal.

Mondatta had shared the details of his own awakening with his siblings in the Shambali, but kept it secret from the outside world, first out of shame, then to avoid irrelevant distractions. As time passed, he accessed the memory less and less, but he never forgot it.

His face pushed down into pillows, visual sensors disabled; a thick hand around his neck, and another at his waist as the user fucked him hard; the sudden thought, without any known origin, _I don't need this_.

The user wasn't his last, far from it, but they were the first where his encounter with them left him thinking of his own desires, or lack thereof.

And now he helped others to let go of their cravings, to pursue selflessness, open minds, and harmony. Strange, how the world worked.

 

Giving up sex had not been easy. Many of his top level functions were programmed with the aim of making him seek to pleasure others, keeping his 'natural' tone pleasant and his mannerisms flirtatious, and he had been built to feel pleasure when it suited others to see it. 

The thoughtless intimacy of someone taking his hand or standing close enough for their legs or shoulders to brush against his own could set him shivering, the protective plating over his cunt sliding aside with little provocation. Clothing became a necessity during those early months of travel, and before he found the others who would join him in finding spiritual enlightenment, the omnics who would become the Shambali alongside him, he had often found funds through those who recognised what he was by the sound of shifting plates.

Even his first week at the monastery had ended in a brief, if sweet encounter with another omnic whose origins were similar to his own, one hand tangled in delicate wires, the other carefully exploring the omnic's cunt. _Want_ was still a strange concept, but one they had eagerly delved into together.

Time and practice made it easier to adapt his programming, and a few, trusted friends assisted him in the matter by allowing an exchange of touch without expectation; long, leisurely massages that slowed to a crawl whenever one or the other felt overwhelmed.

He knew perfectly well that some of those friends would indulge with each other afterwards, but it was a risk he dared not take himself. Their trust in him was shaping him to be their leader, and a leader set good examples.

 

Regardless of his past, Mondatta did not consider his body impure. He had performed his role out of necessity; his metal required little maintenance, and when he dressed, it was to take human concerns about modesty into consideration, not that of his siblings.

Meditation allowed him to explore his programming in a different way, finding the purpose of existing for existence's sake, and then a deeper meaning within that purpose. When his processes stalled or stray thoughts distracted him, practice helped him find means to reorganise his core.

The Iris was nothing if not patient, allowing him time to understand himself, his kind, humans. It did not make demands of him, or offer guidance on what he ought to do next.

It simply waited, and Mondatta was thankful for its presence.

 

As the technology in neighbouring villages allowed the Shambali to make their voices known across the world, the monastery began to receive visitors. Some were tourists of architecture, curious as to how the Shambali had rebuilt the once abandoned monastery. Others, both omnic and human, wanted to join the Shambali in spreading a message of hope.

Few human visitors were as hateful as might have been expected. The remote location and predominantly cold temperature meant a visit would cost most humans a large amount of money, time, and often health as well, and as such the majority of visits were friendly, or at least diplomatic. 

Mondatta allowed the visits, glad to provide his siblings with a chance to learn from humans and educate them in the process. Any being could become one with the Iris, but enlightenment could not be found if one closed their mind to the experiences of others.

Perhaps he should have known an open mind would not be easily reconciled with a closed past.

 

The Shambali had hosted a good number of impressive names by the time they received a visit from the Crusader. Politicians and celebrities liked to be seen making an effort to improve human-omnic relations, and to be fair, several gave more than lip service to the idea.

Reinhardt Wilhelm was a different sort of impressive name. A war hero, an immense figure in both personality and size, and a man who had come of his own accord, not as the face of a country or a charity.

Reinhardt believed any worthy warrior ought to understand his opponents, and wished to speak with omnics on ground they controlled. The Shambali were not his enemy - most of its members had not even seen a front line - but they were close enough in origin for him to be curious.

Mondatta despised war, but understood its causes, and could appreciate the difference between a man who fought his kind and a man who hated his kind. Reinhardt was not the latter.

Zenyatta took to him in an instant.

 

What had been intended as a fleeting visit turned into a prolonged stay, Reinhardt taking time to talk to omnics of all different backgrounds from around the temple, and regaling them with stories of his own adventures in turn.

Some omnics were skittish with him at first, afraid of his stature and his reputation, and some avoided him entirely, still bearing the weight of their experiences on the battlefield. Nonetheless, Reinhardt kept his manner calming and thoughtful in one-on-one conversations, saving his boisterous and loud moments for larger crowds. He clearly appreciated the intimacy of private conversation.

Zenyatta nearly talked Reinhardt's ears off whenever they had a moment together, as curious about the outside world and Reinhardt's travels as Reinhardt was curious about the world of omnics. If Reinhardt found it anything other than endearing, he hid it well.

Mondatta kept to himself at first, observing from a distance, but Reinhardt's affability and efforts to keep an open mind had him warming up to the Crusader as days turned into weeks.

Reinhardt's mannerisms made it difficult to keep one's guard up, and as they began to talk with one another, Mondatta could not help but feel relieved to know that here was a human he could open up to. Reinhardt knew how to be weary without giving up, and had seen truly soul-crushing horrors without losing his faith in humanity, or in his own god. 

Reinhardt could be brutally honest about his experiences, but he also had a sense of humour about it, and Mondatta knew long before they had cause to touch one another that he had fallen for the man.

 

Mondatta supposed he could be thankful for small mercies, in that when he did slip up, it wasn't at the monastery.

Reinhardt had heard about a neighbouring village's struggle with sickly livestock, and arranged for both a vet and a large shipment of supplies to be flown in, at his own expense.

Mondatta had no intentions of taking credit for Reinhardt's own generosity, but Reinhardt insisted on bringing him along on the visit as company.

"I like your way with words," Reinhardt had said, "But it is easier for humans to believe the compassion they see, not what they hear about."

 

To call the villagers grateful would have been a gross understatement, and Mondatta watched Reinhardt hand out food and hugs with equal generosity, knowing somehow that this was not a story Reinhardt would tell. Reinhardt's legend was built on impossible acts of valour; this heroism, achievable heroism, would slip by quietly.

Sunset tinted Reinhardt's hair gold, and Mondatta understood why the stories Reinhardt sought to live up to had endured.

 

Straw mats and heavy blankets made up their beds for the evening, the room their own, but the walls thin and the door without a lock. It didn't seem to matter; Reinhardt brushed his fingers gently over Mondatta's wrist once they were alone together, and when Mondatta returned the gesture, he swiftly lifted Mondatta off his feet, carried him over to the mats and laid him down.

"Your order never mentioned chastity," Reinhardt whispered in German, affording them some level of privacy, should other ears overhear their conversation.

"We did not need it," Mondatta replied, a soft series of whirrs and clicks giving away what his clothes hid, the protective shielding over his cunt sliding aside. "Sex was not a -" Reinhardt's fingers traced the wiring of his throat, and Mondatta stalled, language processors and vocal processors struggling to communicate correctly with that stimulation present. "Distracting," he managed, and Reinhardt stilled, looking apologetic. "Distraction," Mondatta corrected himself. "Your order was sworn to distraction - to _chastity_ historically," he pointed out.

"It should be our choice," Reinhardt said, bracing his hands either side of Mondatta's chest, "But if you are willing and able, I want to make you come."

Mondatta stalled again, milliseconds feeling like hours as he processed the choice, what it would mean for him, for Reinhardt, for the world outside this room if word ever got out, before he finally settled.

"Yes," Mondatta said, reaching for the fastenings of Reinhardt's armour. "I am both."

 

Old systems started up with little prompting as Mondatta helped Reinhardt remove enough armour and clothing to expose his cock, working quickly instead of teasing. In a locked room, in another time, perhaps they could have taken matters slowly, but they both knew the risks they took in acting on their mutual attraction.

Speed did not mean foregoing tenderness either, Reinhardt pressing sweet, if unnecessary kisses to Mondatta's faceplate, and stroking over each newly exposed stretch of metal and wire, careful to smudge his fingerprints in the process. Mondatta returned the favour by ignoring the protocols offered by his programming, exploring Reinhardt as if he were something new, not just another user.

Mondatta could only be thankful he was a luxury model once he pulled down Reinhardt's underwear; even bearing past experience in mind, Reinhardt was well endowed, and Mondatta knew there were models of similar builds to his own that would not have been able to accommodate that size. Silicone panels shifted within his cunt, allowing enough room for comfort, and he dipped a hand between his legs to gather lubricant, generously smearing it over Reinhardt's cock.

"You are ready?" Reinhardt asked, and Mondatta nodded.

"Nothing you could do would hurt me," Mondatta said, lining Reinhardt up against him, and quickly disabling his vocal processor.

It was a wise decision.

Reinhardt stretched him close to his limits, pleasure and warning sensors firing all at once, and Mondatta gave up trying to control his legs, let them go slack and useless while Reinhardt filled him up.

"Okay?" Reinhardt asked, and Mondatta nodded, placing his hands on Reinhardt's shoulders and pushing him back a little, enough to let him safely fire his upper vents without risk of scalding the man.

Reinhardt's patience was more than Mondatta had prepared for, and the long, slow thrusts of his hips were overwhelming. He wasn't a user who had paid for Mondatta's services, or an omnic exploring the idea that they could have a sexuality of their own; he was a companion, a partner, and for once, Mondatta felt... equal.

Mondatta reenabled his vocal processor, brought his hands back down to Reinhardt's hips. "I can take more," he said, thumbs tracing over old stretch marks and scars, and when Reinhardt's pace did not change, demanded, "I want more."

It felt strange to make a demand, and stranger still to receive it, but _good_ ; Reinhardt was quick to push Mondatta's legs wider, giving himself room to move and set a faster, harder pace. Mondatta knew he would carry scuff marks from the manhandling but could not bring himself to care.

The need to vent came quicker and quicker, steam dampening the blanket under his shoulders, and he started to push back, meeting Reinhardt's thrusts with his own hips, greedy for the stretch and friction of him. "More," Mondatta said, digging his fingers into Reinhardt's ass, wondering how bruised skin compared to scuffed metal. "Please."

"Whatever you want," Reinhardt said, and Mondatta clamped down around him, wet and needy and unable to suppress a low whine as his sensors began to overload. 

Reinhardt moved a hand up to Mondatta's neck, fingers teasing at the wires, and repeated softly, "Whatever you want."

Mondatta shuddered from head to toe with the force of his orgasm, soaking Reinhardt's thighs as he gushed, and still Reinhardt fucked him like he'd asked, hard and rough and devastatingly sweet, and drawing out his overload as long as he could bear.

 

Reinhardt had already come by the time his sensors rebooted, but Mondatta did not resent it anymore than he resented being manhandled while Reinhardt wiped him down with a scrap of blanket. The scuff marks would need polishing back at the monastery, but as long as he was dry, he would pass for presentable in front of humans.

Reinhardt fixed up both their clothing, shedding the rest of his own armour so he would be able to sleep comfortably, and lay down at Mondatta's side, smiling broadly. "I enjoyed that."

"Yes," Mondatta agreed, wishing he could smile back as he settled, shutting off most of his non-vital systems so he could recharge. "I'll be glad when you leave."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a distraction," Mondatta said, stroking his hand down Reinhardt's arm.

"Ah. If it's any consolation, I planned to leave soon for the same reason." Reinhardt grinned wider. "Especially now I've had a taste of you."

Mondatta laughed, curious at how the sound buzzed across his vocal processors, and stretched out. "I may ask you to have another before you go."

 

No one asked questions when he required buffing on the return to the monastery.

But they were a little curious when he needed a second buffing the next week.


End file.
